


Love is touch (touch is love)

by circ_bamboo



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Multi, Threesome - F/F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-09
Updated: 2011-04-09
Packaged: 2017-10-17 19:11:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/180265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/circ_bamboo/pseuds/circ_bamboo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/users/rubynye">Rubynye</a>'s prompt for PikeOneCait, early or late. Kind of a sequel or in-the-future sort of bit for <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/147343">Where My Hand is Set (My Soul Shall Be)</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love is touch (touch is love)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rubynye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rubynye/gifts).



Number One isn't the only pilot on the _Yorktown_ , but she is by far the best; Caitlin Barry isn't the only engineer, but she _knows_ things that her second can only guess at. And, well, Christopher Pike is, as a matter of fact, the only captain, although there are a good number of captains-in-training floating around. What it means is that as much as they try, it's only maybe two or three nights a week that all three of them can even make it to the same bed at the same time for sleeping, let alone anything else.

The other days, it's something like this:

Chris is the captain, so he gets first dibs on all the 'good' shifts. But space doesn't really care about Federation Standard Time, and so he gets called to the bridge at 0300 ship's time to deal with potential hostiles. Cait is working beta shift that week, and although she wasn't tired yet, she'd been curled up in bed, reading an engineering journal as Chris slept. Before he leaves, though, functional but only half-awake yet, Cait stops him. She flattens out an errant tuft of hair, resettles his tunic so the seams are straight, and takes his face in her hands and kisses him.

She tastes like the tea she's been drinking and maybe just faintly of the glass of wine they'd shared before bed, but it isn't so much how she _tastes_ as how she feels, warm and solid and present under his hands. He has no idea how he survived on a starship for however long he's been on one without the ever-present knowledge that he _has_ someone--two someones--and that if he is alone, if his bed is empty, it's by choice. But now that he has it, he never wants to let it go. Never wants to let _them_ go, although obviously he has to right at the present moment because One needs him to do the talking so she can do the flying.

He leans in for one last touch and bumps noses with Cait, who grins at him. "Go," she says, and hands him his comm unit. She pats him on the ass on his way out the door, and he shakes his head as he jogs down the hall.

* * *

Later, after the potential situation has been defused and Chris returns to his room, Cait is just returning as well. "I was just checking Engineering," she says, and he smiles.

They strip and slide under the covers again, Chris a little wired from the bridge situation, Cait yawning hard enough to make his jaw ache in sympathy. "Too tired?" he asks, trying not to touch her in ways to sway her decision but unable to keep his hands from her skin.

She thinks for a moment, and then smiles slowly and says, "No," as she reaches a hand down to wrap around him.

* * *

Chris is in the shower, running a few minutes late (it's fine; he was on the bridge for two hours in the middle of the night and contrary to popular notion, Starfleet does have rules about the number of hours one is allowed to work in any given time period), when One returns from her bridge shift. Cait is still bundled in the blankets, but she rouses when she hears One and sits up, letting the sheet slide off her shoulders. "One," she says. "Come here."

One does, and sits on the edge of the bed, picking up a lock of Cait's hair off her shoulder. She doesn't get wired after tense situations the same way Chris does--alert, certainly, but not automatically aroused. She is close enough to smell their earlier lovemaking, though, and Cait's bare skin is mere inches away and she is _smiling_ in that way that means that she knows exactly what One is thinking.

"Come here," Cait repeats, and One takes a deep breath before pushing Cait back against the pillows and covering her body with her own.

* * *

When Chris gets out of the bathroom, One's still mostly clothed, but she's busy with her fingers and Cait is busy gasping. He stops and watches until Cait cries out and pulls One's head down to hers, sealing their mouths together. He can hear them making small noises, Cait still hauling in breaths, One's uniform rasping against the sheets.

 _If only I didn't have to leave_ , he thinks, and sighs, although he loves the bridge of the _Yorktown_ almost as much as he loves these two women. Turning to the dresser, he pulls out a uniform and starts dressing.

Warm arms wrap around him before he can pull his tunic on, and it's One; he knows even before he turns around. "Hi," he says. "Good morning and good evening."

"It's been pretty good so far," One says, half-smiling, and leans in for a kiss.

She tastes faintly of Cait but moreso of _herself_ ; she is solid and real in ways that Cait isn't, and ethereal in ways that Cait is not, either. They are not interchangeable and he would never kiss them as if they were, so One gets different pressure and different strokes of his tongue even as she cups his face almost the same way that Cait did.

They break apart a few moments later, and he pulls himself away reluctantly to finish dressing. He watches One undress, though, and slide back into bed with Cait, and he can't stop himself from going to the bed to kiss them both one last time before leaving for shift.

They both grab his ass as he turns, and he smiles all the way to the bridge.


End file.
